


captivated

by mercurials



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alcohol, Getting Together, M/M, Post Timeskip, also i'm projecting, also super vague, anyways semi singing an ivos song that's really it, i guess, idk this was kinda ambiguous and not very well thought out, man tagging is super hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:34:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26926660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mercurials/pseuds/mercurials
Summary: in which kenjirou is enticed by eita, as he always is, always has been. but, this time, he takes the fall.
Relationships: Semi Eita/Shirabu Kenjirou
Comments: 8
Kudos: 65





	captivated

**Author's Note:**

> do not expect much i wrote most of this while high on antihistamines LOL and, as per ao3 user mercurials trademark, there's no solid plot and most of it is very vague and confusing!
> 
> for phea <3 lousy bitch!

_ You're the one that I want to be with _

_ Never wanna be separated _

_ I'm captivated _

There’s something about how Semi Eita looked under the harsh stage lights that renders Kenjirou immobile; maybe it’s the way his skin looks in flashing red and neon green (that shouldn’t, in any logical way, should be attractive, but Semi Eita never could follow rules, not even the universe’s) or the way his feet are heavy on the flimsy wood and Kenjirou, strangely enough, feels the weight of each step and stomp and jump on his chest as if he’s laid below the soles of Eita’s feet. The lyrics roll off Eita’s tongue smoothly, but the roughness in his voice catches Kenjirou off guard. He can’t take his eyes off him. Not that he’s making much effort to, but he doesn’t really want to be seen. Not here. Not now.

Kenjirou isn’t even completely sure how he got here, even. Two weeks ago Taichi had sent him the poster for a gig of this band that he had no interest in and he paid no mind to it. After being mysteriously pestered about it for weeks by his own roommate, he had finally looked up the band’s page on the internet, and when he saw the familiar characters of a name he thought he had forgotten, it left him quite disoriented. He promised he wouldn’t go, but here he is, Friday night, standing by the bar area as he watches Semi Eita perform. It’s a side of him Kenjirou never thought he’d get to see. It’s new; different. It makes his heart plummet all the same. 

_ Everyone says you're complicated _

_ Every day, you're my most awaited, oh _

_ I'm captivated _

_ Oh, they don't see you as I do _

_ You are so beautiful _

_ Come breathe within my soul _

_ Let go _

As if heaven and earth had conspired against him, Eita’s eyes flit over the crowd, and inevitably locks with Kenjirou’s. Eita’s eyes linger on him for three seconds too long and Kenjirou is suddenly overcome with a sense of hope, and it’s heavy and feather-light all at once, the presence making a home in his chest. He doesn’t look away. For the first time in years, Kenjirou lets himself look at Eita. Let’s himself bask in the haziness of it all, paying no mind to his erratic pulse. He lets himself be looked at while Eita releases his grip on his guitar in favor of clutching the mic.

_ Oh, my love _

_ You don't have to listen to a word they say _

_ 'Cause all that really matters is that I love you _

_ I really do _

Eita breaks eye contact first, and Kenjirou’s trance is broken. Just like that. Strangely, it feels like he’s risen from being submerged in the water. The music is suddenly louder, ringing in his ears. He hadn’t realized how subdued the noise had been when he was looking at Eita. Has the world always been this dull against the frame of Semi Eita?

The set ended so quickly after that that Kenjirou almost startled when Eita started walking off the stage. When he has, he starts walking over to the bar area, right where Kenjirou is. His instincts were telling him to flee, but Kenjirou stood his ground. He isn’t sixteen anymore. What’s there to be scared of?

“Shirabu,” Eita says once he was at arm’s length with Kenjirou. The way  _ Shirabu _ rolls off his tongue sends a buzzing under Kenjirou’s skin, and his hands meet at his back so the slight tremble in them would go unnoticed. Despite the dim lights, Kenjirou studies his face. It’s more mature now, he notes. Darker circles, but Kenjirou thinks it’s probably the eyeliner. Other than that, he looks the same. Feels the same. Familiar. Attractive.

“Semi-san,” Kenjirou schools his expression and bows his head slightly. Saying Eita’s name out loud after years is quite the experience for Kenjirou, but he makes an effort to have it roll off his tongue and through his teeth naturally. If Eita notices how breathless he sounds, Kenjirou silently thanks him for not pointing it out. “You did well. I enjoyed the performance.”

Eita laughs at him at that, mouth bared enough for Kenjirou to notice the slight snaggletooth he’s had since high school. The familiarity of it all is enough to ease Kenjirou’s pulse a little bit. “Ah, Shirabu, so formal.”

Kenjirou doesn’t know what to say to that, so he just bows his head again. This prompts another laugh from Eita. Then, Eita says “Can I buy you a drink?”

The erratic beating is back in his head and he barely manages a, “There’s no need, Semi-san,”

But Semi Eita is nothing if he isn’t stubborn. “Aw, c’mon. Let me treat my favorite kouhai,” he says with a teasing grin all too familiar to Kenjirou. The curve of Eita’s mouth makes him stare and delay his answer for two seconds. Kenjirou catches himself and nods. 

“See, you’d give in,” Eita nudges him slightly, the smile still on his mouth. The touch of their clothed skin is enough to send Kenjirou’s head spinning. He doesn’t know why he rejected the offer in the first place.

\--

“I actually had an annoyingly huge crush on you, in high school,” Eita says suddenly, and he says it like he’s commenting on the weather. Kenjirou snaps his head to look at him, utterly disbelieving. They’ve had a few drinks now, thanks to Eita, and the conversation has apparently progressed to this.

_ Nah, no fucking way, _ he thinks, because his mind refuses to conjure up any other, more intelligent responses to what he was just told. Eita has on this dopey smile and a faraway look in his eyes as he takes another swig of beer. He turns to Kenjirou and laughs slightly, apparently amused by the expression on his face. “What?”

“You’re not serious,” Kenjirou says, staring directly into Eita’s eyes. The words come out a little breathless, and he tries not to make it sound like he’s convincing himself, but when the person you’ve been pining over for the better half of ten years tells you he had ( _ As in, past tense)  _ a crush on you in high school, you can only hope the dismay doesn’t seep through your teeth. Kenjirou opts to stare at the wooden counter in front of him, as to not overwhelm himself.

“I am,” Eita says, like he’s determined to make his past known to Kenjirou. In a way, maybe he is. “A hundred percent serious, even. Why would I lie about that?” He says it with a chuckle, and he’s being so nonchalant about this whole thing that Kenjirou wants to just up and leave the fucking bar and disappear. Old habits die hard, huh.

Before he could catch himself, Kenjirou mutters softly, “Why… why didn’t you say anything?”

Eita looks at least taken aback at that, and Kenjirou basks in his small victory. Victory because he got The Semi Eita to show some reaction. To look at him a little longer.

Eita half-scoffs and half-chuckles at that. “Would there have been a point?”

And suddenly, Kenjirou’s whole world crumbles around him, and he starts seeing red.  _ Would there have been a point?! Are you  _ fucking _ stupid?! I was being obvious! Hell, Tendou-san caught it!  _ Instead of going ballistic and throwing a bitchfit at a public place at 11PM, Kenjirou decides not to be a public nuisance, so he takes a deep breath and tries to be nonchalant, as well.  _ Fuck you, Semi Eita.  _ Clearing his throat, he attempts to sound as indifferent as he can. “Maybe,” he finally says, shrugging.

“Nah,” Eita quickly turns down the idea with a scrunch of his nose. Kenjirou indulges in the privacy of his own mind and has an internal bitchfit again because 1) just what the  _ fuck _ is that supposed to mean, and 2) there is no fucking way a nose scrunch should be that cute. Semi Eita is a grown man. Get it together, Kenjirou. Seriously. Before his thoughts eat at him, Eita continues. “Didn’t you have, like, a… thing? With Taichi?”

“Thing with Taichi? What?” Kenjirou is thoroughly confused now, because all he can remember from Taichi in high school is him constantly complaining about how insanely stupid Kenjirou was when it came to handling his crush on his senior, and not much else. Most of his memories of Taichi are a bunch of blurred images now, seeing as he’s his roommate that he sees every day of his life, and by his standards, his best friend. He never once felt anything romantic towards him, and knows that if Taichi did feel anything for him he would’ve made a move, so the idea that Semi Eita, of all people, thought they were romantically involved, was nothing short of mind boggling to him. He decides on communicating today, and he’s come this far, so he’s fine. He’ll blame his words on alcohol if ever it bites him in the ass after. “I’ve never had a  _ ‘thing’ _ with Taichi.”

Semi looks at him now,  _ really  _ looks at him, with the same intensity Kenjirou had wished for when he was sixteen and naive. Here, now, at 23, Kenjirou still wishes those eyes were his and his only. He feels oddly small under Eita’s gaze now. “What?”

Eita doesn’t answer. He looks away from Kenjirou, opting to take another swig. Kenjirou’s heartbeat rings in his ears for the nth time that night and it’s suddenly overwhelming. He blinks and tries to calm himself down.  _ What? What did I do? Did I say anything wrong? Look at me again, Semi-san. Tell me. What are you thinking about? _

But since he is a coward, Kenjirou doesn’t say any of that. He evens out his breathing and says, “I have to go now, Semi-san. It was nice seeing you.”

“Oh, okay,” Eita says. “I’ll walk you outside.”

Kenjirou doesn’t show much resistance, so they stand up at the same time and walk side by side. Kenjirou keeps his gaze fixed forward, and he feels the ghost of Eita’s gaze on him from time to time. When they’re outside, Kenjirou finally looks at Eita, only to find that the latter has his gaze kept towards the ground. “Thank you for the company, Semi-san.”

Eita looks at Kenjirou and he can’t bring himself to identify whatever the expression was that Eita wore in his eyes. “Oh. Yeah, it’s nothing,”

“You seem distracted,” Kenjirou says. He’s testing the waters, trying to see if he can push his luck. There’s still an unfathomable sense of hope in his chest. Maybe now, now that he isn’t so scared anymore, now that he’s  _ sure, _ the universe would be kind enough to give him another shot at this. A shot at… loving Semi Eita upfront, and none of his fears and insecurities getting the better of him. 

“Ah, don’t worry about me. Just tired,” Eita waves it off nonchalantly. “Have you called a cab?”

“Semi-san, I-” the words get stuck in his throat. Eita looks at him with both eyebrows raised, expecting. Kenjirou looks at the concrete ground under his shoes. “I enjoyed tonight.”

“Uh,” Eita, the dense bitch that he is, brings a hand to the back of his neck awkwardly. “Thank you? It’s kinda weird to hear you being nice to me, which is stupid but-”

“Would you like to do it again?” Kenjirou says in one breath. If Eita doesn’t hear it, then it never happened. 

“Huh? Like, get drinks? Or…” He still doesn’t get it, and Kenjirou thinks this is god himself asking him to reevaluate his life decisions and taste in men. He squints his eyes, disbelieving. 

“Yes, Semi-san. To get drinks. Together.” Kenjirou deadpans. He’s kind of annoyed now. “Was that so hard to understand?”

“So mean, Shirabu,” Eita glares at him. “I was just making sure! I didn’t know you’d insist on being around me.” Eita says it in that same teasing tone that makes Shirabu want to bash his head in. But like, affectionately.

“Nevermind, then,” Kenjirou huffs, and turns away from Eita, because he is a grown man that acts grown and mature. Eita laughs at him again. Kenjirou doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of it.

“No no, you can’t take it back,” Eita says as he grabs Kenjirou by the sleeve to make them face each other again. He’s smiling really wide; it makes Kenjirou’s stomach flip. “Yes, Shirabu, I would like to get drinks with you. Together. Since that is what you want and as your senpai I must oblige.” 

Shirabu sneers at him. “Has anyone ever told you how annoying you are,  _ senpai _ ?”

“You have. Plenty.” Eita replies, and Kenjirou kicks his shin. The cab he called finally pulls up and he gets in as Eita is crouched as watches him settle in, their faces level with each other. Before the cab drives off, Kenjirou sticks his tongue out at Eita, and the latter smiles and mouths a  _ get home safe. _

  
  


++

  
  


The next Saturday finds Kenjirou and Eita sat opposite each other at a nicer ramen place around the city. As Kenjirou had just finished placing their orders, Eita crosses his arms over the table, leaning in. 

“So,” he starts, and Kenjirou feels the dread from a mile away. “Is this a date-date, or-“

“I’m leaving,” Kenjirou says, deadpan, pocketing his phone. He makes a move to stand and Eita reaches for him, laughing as he keeps Kenjirou in place. Outwardly, Kenjirou rolls his eyes. Inside, his stomach is doing somersaults and his skin tingles from where Eita has touched him. He spends the rest of the date-date thinking about how he wants to feel like this for as long as he lives. 


End file.
